Gladiator Pit Lyrics – Chris Webby

Read the full Gladiator Pit lyrics by Chris Webby along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Chris Webby's music, you can also explore Raw Thoughts VII and Down The Road, two other songs by Chris Webby.

[Intro: Nems]
Mah, fu*k your life, stupid
You know the vibe (You know the vibe)
Haha, third time's the charm (Yup)
Roll a dong (Bing bong)
Yo, yo, yo

[Verse 1: Nems]
Right nows not the time to hate
I'm everywhere, it's pure torture
Thinking you could fu*k with my squad
Now that's a tall order
Ten deep, hopping on planes
My crews'll cross borders
I don't go to beaches no more
My pool got salt water
You got to learn that I'm not gonna lose
I told her, "Let me go raw, who wears condoms in pools?"
Really baby, think about it, fu*ks the matter with you?
Hit me on the 'Gram, I fu*ked her, same night out of the blue
My personality done got me out of the red
This blicky will put your fu*king thoughts out of your head
You a loser, get them fu*king thoughts out of your head
And if it ain't about money, I don't get out of the bed, ah (Ching-ching)
These satin sheets is too comfortable
I don't do sleepovers, wake up, you're too comfortable (Your Uber's here)
You're fu*king weird, that's why b!tches don't fu*k with you
They putting pills all in they drink like Cliff Huxtable
Rah, yo, take these last four bars and rub 'em on your chest
Yo, Webby, tell 'em don't ever disrespect me
Yeah, we outside, stupid
Fu*k your life

[Verse 2: Oswin Benjamin]
Y'all done got passed the Mason and step outside of the pool pit
It is what it is, know this killer came with a full clip
I ain't come for play-play
So, understand there ain't no skipping this ass whooping
Pen sharper than Club Shay-Shay, huh
These dudes are stuck in a clear state of delirium
They ain't good fellas, lil Joeys think that we're scared of him
Aww, them n!ggas have got it backwards
God, I'm a dog, the Lord my Shepard but the interiors terrier
Been a pitbull since that fool was screamin culo, puto
Go on (??) without the prosciutto
Young bucket that n!gga with 50 Cent on my school clothes
Just (??) them caught bodies on corners 'til school close
See, loyalty forcify when met with a few hoes
Falling out like all them retail the way I seen crews fold
Me and my (??) ass, number twos with excessive vibrants
(??) through shortcomings (??)
God flow, how light shine through me like blue stone
Go the legend, I'm only operating in two modes
And you know I'm in my element, this ain't no fools gold
I have to undertake a lot while evading the tombstones, oh woah

[Verse 3: OT The Real]
Take your co-signs and rub 'em on your chest
If there's something I'ma stress, we'll just come to y'all address
This work coming once I'm done with all the rest
That's why I put on this Rollie and this gun when I get dressed
Fiends get the fetty betty
Ice for the tweakers
State (??) multi-cell, fight for your sneakers
I whacked up a bike
Homie tried, said it was decent
Careful on that line, you'll get indicted for your recents
I done seen calls put people behind walls
I done seen raw get beat on in times four
I done seen wh*res get evil and (??)
This business a grind sport
I suggest you mind yours
The work slows up then the robberies occur
If you say nobody's home bro, you got to be for sure
The pots just being stirred
This the prophecy in work
She gon' need a colonoscopy from swallowing this work
They ain't stopped making guns once they made yours
It's tough, you and your ops get blunts from the same store
Money's the only thing I came for
We don't re-up, we just make more

[Verse 4: Quake Matthews]
I keep faking smile after smile, I can barely pretend
'Cause I'm just so sick of burying friends
Been fighting with the mirror again
Drinking spirit after spirit, then I got the nerve to wonder why my spirit ain't cleansed
I got dark circles under my eye muscles
Empty bottles on my desk, plotting a side hustle
Hate texts from my ex coming, I try to rebuttle
Only to discover that it's like playing russian roulette
Feel like God got a gun to my head
But I thank him 'cause when you feel like a target then you know you a threat
I been slowing down, holding regrets close to the edge
Showing regress', hoping to still hope for the best
Got the Spotify billboard in Toronto and I thought it was fresh
That's until I seen my Spotify check
I guess for not riding the wave, that's what I get
But I'd rather drown than be a slave for my respect
Bet, if I don't get paid, I'm coming to collect
With the blade like Bobby Flay, you fu*king with a chef
Touch my plate and I'm pulling out your stomach through your neck
It's Mister Matthews

[Verse 5: Showly]
And if I had to explain this s*it to (??)
Why I was dealing weight?
It's 'cause I wasn't dumb enough to think that no politican could fix my life
Ducking police, many a nights had to hustle to eat
My soul gone but that's how long I've been running these streets
Every verse you gotta switch and you gon' throw rounds and go down
The only thing they switch is their pronouns, from he to her
I'm a consonant, I keep it G for sure
I get it popping with a continent 'cause only sheep defer
And people charged him with an overdose death
He said, "I wanted only dope, homie, don't throw me no fet"
But when the fiend is comatose, you know the Holy Ghost next
We took the flow to (??) but that's 'cause Showly know best
These n!ggas going broke posting
Tryna keep these hoes open
A bunch of mannequins with nice clothes, no motion
The PCP that my bro quoting so potent
He got a house off of that water with no ocean
Y'all low intensity, no consistency
Prone to injury, living off your bro identity
Ain't no convincing me that me and y'all is anything alike
Y'all can't fu*k with me in anything in life, n!gga

[Verse 6: Chris Webby]
See, I got a couple loose screws
Fu*king with Webby's a lose-lose
What you call my enemies, I call targets to shoot through
S*it, who else you know could spit out this fire like Mushu
While looking like a druggie version of Steve up in Blues Clues
Just 'cause I be singing lately, don't get it confused, dude
I got bars that could put a body way down where the roots grew
So, just let 'em talk that s*it in my comments on YouTube
As I fu*k their mothers while watching Sopranos on Hulu
See, I learned you gotta dribble 'fore you slam in a basket
And learn to aim before you shoot and so I carefully practiced
And now homicide is a hobby, leave 'em laying in a casket
Until the worms are crawling through 'em like the sand on Arrakis
Listen, fu*king with Webb's like tryna handle a cactus
A fully rabbid white boy, I'm just an animal cracker
Who took off for another planet but I landed in madness
So, I fu*ked the world 'til I busted and I slanted the axis, baow
Stuck in this game where the rappers can rhyme barely
Pretty sure most of 'em ain't seen inside of a library
While the world gone soft, no action, all talk
Bunch of pussies with no backbone, y'all non-spinary
I am known for saying stuff you're not supposed to say
In cancel court, I got a trial on the way
In the jacuzzi like Matthew Perry, except I'm on a higher dose of K
A couple Adderalls, a Tylenol, an eighth
And psilocybin caps with an entire batch of weed brownies
A fu*king Prilosec and so much coke, I'm stuffy
Grab a Dimetapp
I only murdered Lil Xan just to cremate his fu*king remains
Line 'em up with a razor blade, roll a twenty and snort a line of that
To see if I could catch a high from that
I'm just a psychopath
But still, in spite of that
Catch him in a web with these spider raps
Shadowbanned, censored, investigated and wire tapped
So tell a friend to tell a friend that I am back
Webby